


you can feel the light start to tremble

by kiyala



Series: all aglow [2]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-21
Updated: 2014-09-21
Packaged: 2018-02-18 06:21:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2338319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's difficult to be in a relationship with an immortal, especially an impatient one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you can feel the light start to tremble

**Author's Note:**

  * For [annaroserae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/annaroserae/gifts).



> For Anna, because I said a mean thing.

Combeferre always looks forward to lunch when he knows that he'll spend it with Courfeyrac. It's both strange and pleasant, to steal extra time together when they both know that they shouldn't. They both have their work to do, there are several other places in the world where Courfeyrac's sunlight reaches, and Combeferre is incredibly aware of it. He's told Courfeyrac that they don't need to have lunch together, certainly not as often as they do, but there's little point in arguing about it. Courfeyrac promises that he'll be there and Combeferre has come to learn that whenever Courfeyerac makes a promise, he makes sure to keep it.

Today, of all days, Combeferre looks forward to it. He has news that sits at the tip of his tongue, desperate to be let out into the open and he wants Courfeyrac to be the first to hear it. He wants to watch Courfeyrac's features light up with excitement, the way they always do when he hears something good. He wants to be responsible for that, to be the one giving Courfeyrac a reason to shine instead of simply basking in the glow. 

"You're happy," Courfeyrac says, the moment they see each other, sitting outside in the park near where Combeferre works. "I can see it in your step, in your smile. Are you going to tell me?"

"I'm going to tell you before I tell anyone else," Combeferre replies, smiling as they take each other's hand. "There's a health science conference in a week and I was told that my presentation was chosen. I'm going to talk about my research in front of some of the leading professionals across the health sciences."

Courfeyrac beams, clapping his hands together. "I'm glad."

"But you're not surprised," Combeferre muses, the words out of his mouth before he even has the time to fully process the thought.

"Well." Courfeyrac chuckles. "You'd be amazed at just how far you can get when you have gods wanting you to succeed."

Despite Courfeyrac's bright smile, Combeferre suddenly feels very cold. "Do you mean to say…"

"You mentioned it the other day," Courfeyrac shrugs, like it's nothing. "So in turn, I mentioned it when the right people were listening. And here we are. You won, you're presenting at your conference. You're just as happy as I knew you'd be."

Combeferre's stomach bottoms out. "Courfeyrac, this isn't about _winning_. It isn't about that at all."

Courfeyrac's smile falters. "But I thought…"

"I wanted to get here on my own merit," Combeferre grits out, standing up. He hasn't even taken his lunch out of his bag yet. "Not because… not because of you."

"But Combeferre—" 

"I'm eating inside," Combeferre decides, turning away before his anger can boil over into something he'll later regret. "Alone. Sorry for taking you away from your duties." 

"Combeferre, please," Courfeyrac calls after him and it's odd to have a god pleading after him, it's uncomfortable, and Combeferre ignores the bewildered looks he's given by passers by, hunching his shoulders and walking back to his office with long strides. 

He doesn't look back once and the moment he's inside, he closes the blinds to block out the sun. He eats lunch, reviewing his presentation, and finds that he's still just as angry once he's finished.

:·:

It's dark when Combeferre returns home. Courfeyrac is making his way around the other side of the world and Combeferre takes the time he has to close the blinds on every window in the house. It's not enough to stop the Sun God if he truly wants to come inside, but they've spoken about boundaries before. Courfeyrac may forget them from time to time, but Combeferre is willing to bet that it will not be the case now.

He falls asleep feeling lonely, feeling no different when he wakes to the chirp of birds awaiting the dawn. He forces himself to fall back asleep until the alarm he's set, an hour past sunrise. Courfeyrac is nowhere to be seen and the apartment is disconcertingly dark. Combeferre gets ready, cooking breakfast for one, showering, dressing. It takes a fraction of what it would if Courfeyrac were with him, and is nowhere near as enjoyable. 

Combeferre spends the walk to his bus stop with his head down, half afraid that Courfeyrac will approach him. The sun is gentle this morning, tentatively warm, and Combeferre wraps his coat around himself, furious at Courfeyrac, furious at himself for hoping and dreading all in the same breath. 

The sun burns brighter as the day continues, but Combeferre ignores it, staying indoors until past sunset, going home, keeping his blinds closed. He does the same the next day, then the day after, until he is no longer worrying about Courfeyrac and is spending his time preparing for his presentation at the conference instead. 

The conference itself is held at a large hotel, far enough away that Combeferre needs to book a room to stay. The first thing he does after checking in is to close the blinds here as well. He has no doubt that Courfeyrac will know where to find him, but Combeferre doesn't want to be found, not yet. He tries not to think about how the skies are overcast all day.

Combeferre's presentation is early on during the conference, which lasts for a week. It gives him time to mingle, to listen to other presentations, to take notes and to spend afternoons reading articles that he otherwise wouldn't, under the artificial light of his hotel room. He doesn't venture outside once all week and towards the end of the week, he's stopped by a petite brunette with a nametag that reads _Fauchelevent_. He remembers her from one of the psychology presentations, from the way she'd commanded the entire hall despite her size.

"You look like you haven't seen the sunlight all week."

Combeferre laughs, because he doesn't know how else to respond, and has no idea what to say.

"Come and eat lunch with me," she says, more a command than an invitation. "We'll steal sandwiches from the refreshments table."

"I don't—"

"The courtyard here is lovely." She smiles. It's not the kind of smile that Combeferre is capable of saying no to.

The clouds part for Combeferre as he steps outside. He tries not to think of that, tries not to think of it in terms of things happening for him, but clouds part, academics allow him to make presentations, and there's little point in thinking of it in any other way.

"I liked your presentation," Fauchelevent tells him as she chews on the crusts of her sandwich. "It was concise, to the point, and your findings were presented much more coherently than most."

It's been days since his presentation and Combeferre has mostly pushed it from his mind. He nods in appreciation, smiling at her before going back to examining his lunch.

"You see that man on the other side of the courtyard?" Fauchelevent asks, pointing with the subtle tilt of her chin, as if Combeferre hadn't noticed the man trying and failing to be subtle about watching her. "I'm going to marry him someday. I've decided. Just like you've decided to be miserable."

"I haven't—" Combeferre begins, just as the clouds part further, just as his skin prickles with the warmth of the sun on it. He's missed it so desperately that his breath catches in his throat.

Fauchelevent nods serenely, finishing her sandwich and nodding at Combeferre before getting to her feet and dusting her skirt off, wandering away in search of her admirer. 

With a sigh, Combeferre looks down at his sandwich again. He feels Courfeyrac with him while he simultaneously feels alone. He gets up and returns to his dark hotel room, burying himself in work, and doesn't emerge until the sun has set and it's time for him to leave.

:·:

Combeferre's apartment is quiet when he returns to it, cold and dark and miserable. The sun is shining outside and he sighs heavily, walking to the window facing east. He opens the blinds, then moves to the next window, then the next, opening blinds as he goes, slowly letting the light back in. He goes to every room, feels the weight on his chest lighten with every twist of the blinds.

When he returns to the lounge room, Courfeyrac is standing there, waiting for him. He looks unsure of himself but more importantly, he looks upset. It makes Combeferre freeze where he is, knowing that it's because of him.

"Two weeks," Courfeyrac rasps, not moving from his spot in the middle of the room. "Two weeks of you not wanting to see or speak to me."

"I was angry with you," Combeferre says quietly, not quite able to look at Courfeyrac directly. "I needed time. It would have passed in the blink of an eye to you."

"It did," Courfeyrac whispers, and only looks more upset for it. "It always does. This entire thing…"

He gestures between them and they've carefully avoided this conversation often enough for Combeferre to know exactly what he means.

"I only have so long with you, Combeferre. _Two entire weeks_ …"

"I was angry with you," Combeferre repeats, because no matter how much he wants to pull Courfeyrac into his arms, he needs to state this, he needs to make it clear. "What you did was… unacceptable. I understand you were trying to help, but…"

"You needed to do it on your own," Courfeyrac finishes, nodding. "I'm sorry. I know you would have done it anyway, I just wanted to hurry the decision, I wanted you to be happy _immediately_."

"I thought immortals were meant to be the patient ones," Combeferre says with a small smile.

Courfeyrac laughs, shaking his head. "I have never been patient. Why do you think everyone sees me once a day? …Are you still angry with me?"

"No, I'm not. But I need you to promise that you'll never do that to me again." Combeferre relaxes and Courfeyrac notices, taking a step forward.

"I promise. If you promise me that you won't avoid me for two weeks again? If you're angry with me, talk to me about it. Please?"

"I needed time," Combeferre murmurs, opening his arms so that Courfeyrac will close the distance between them. They hold each other tightly and Combeferre breathes Courfeyrac in, basks in his warmth. "Time that I promise I'll make up to you. I was given the next two weeks off to make up for the extra work I did. I'm yours for that time."

Courfeyrac's eyes go wide with an excitement that would fit a child better than a god. "Really?"

"Really," Combeferre nods. "I always have been and always will be yours. You know that."

"Yes," Courfeyrac smiles, filling the room with light. "Yes, I do."

**Author's Note:**

> Title from If I Lose Myself by OneRepublic


End file.
